


A Thousand Paper Cuts

by GrumpyJenn



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Actor Allusion, Alton Brown's Good Eats, Explicit Language, F/M, Fish Fingers and Custard, Friends to Lovers, Mattex, Sexual Situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-15 23:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thousand paper cuts hurt worse than real injury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiny Cuts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areyoumarriedriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/gifts), [thesesongsaretrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesesongsaretrue/gifts), [beverlymaldoran](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=beverlymaldoran).



Alex sighed and pushed her trolley down the frozen foods aisle at the Tesco nearest the block of flats they lived in while filming. _Fish fingers and chips,_ she thought bitterly, _pizza, ice cream... why not go for it all? May as well live up to my press_. The wheel on the trolley got stuck and when she shoved it, it knocked over a whole pyramid of tinned fruit. _Fucking brilliant,_ she thought as a clerk came running toward the noise, but just as the young woman came up to her she felt a warm and supportive hand at her elbow.

“I’m so sorry,” said Matt kindly to the young clerk, “So clumsy always. Um, hello, I’m the Doctor, I’m here to help.” He shot the girl a goofy grin and leaned in close. “Not really of course; I’m not mad you know, just odd. And clumsy.” He started to pick up the tins over the girl’s protests, and had them stacked in a tower in short order. “Don’t worry,” he said loudly, “It’s all under control.” He waved the clerk off gently and turned to Alex. “You alright, Kingston?” he asked, close to her ear, and when she didn’t respond, he slung an arm companionably round her shoulders and took a long and careful look at her trolley. “Oh my,” he breathed into her ear. “You _are_ in a bad way. Right, come on.” He began to tug her gently by the hand but she resisted.

“Matt, leave off,” she said crossly. “What are you doing?” He didn’t answer, except to demand if she had plans for the weekend, and when she said, “No,” in a resentful tone, he resumed pulling on her hand.

“Come on, Kingston. Please?” It was nearly a pleading whinge and it pulled an unwilling smile from her as she let herself be dragged along. “Fish fingers, I see. No custard?” He gave her a patently false mournful look and whipped out his phone. “Let’s see, there’s this fan, he’s got his own cooking shows in America and he made a _savoury_ custard that’s actually quite tasty with the fish fingers. A-L-T-O-N B-R-O-W-N F-I-S-H C-U-S-T-A-R-D,” he murmured the letters as his long fingers tapped at the phone. “Ah, here it is! Yes, yes, yes...” He scanned the list of ingredients. “Have you got fresh dill weed, Alex?” At her bemused headshake he clucked disapprovingly and swung the trolley around to the next aisle over.

Matt manhandled Alex’s trolley through the store, bought all the groceries over her protests, and hoisted the bags, gesturing with one of them for her to walk ahead of him. “Mmhmm... taxi, I think,” he mused, and handed her a bag to whistle for one, which showed up immediately. _The golden boy_ , thought Alex sourly, _in his prime, when everything falls into place for him._ She was happy for him, truly she was, but she was mired too deep in her own depression today to be cheerful for his sake. The taxi deposited them a few minutes later at the block of flats and Matt got Alex inside and up the lift and in front of her own door before he spoke again.

“Now then, Kingston, bad day?” His voice was so gentle and understanding that Alex suddenly found herself near tears, so she just nodded. “Right, then open your door darling, and I’ll put these away for you. Then we can talk about it.” She fumbled her keys out of her handbag and opened the door, holding it open for him and following him inside, automatically locking it behind them. She remained silent through all this, thinking. _He’s being nice, and you’re being a silly old woman,_ she scolded herself. _There was nothing really bad that happened, just a bad day, we all have them._ She felt tears threaten again, and swore to herself that she would _not_ cry.

When they had finished shelving the groceries in silence, Matt took Alex gently by the hand and led her to her own couch in the sitting room of her tiny flat, settling her into it and sitting beside her, taking both her hands in his. “Now,” he said, “Talk to me. You’ve been getting quieter and quieter all week on set, and today after lunch you flubbed your lines, which is not like you at all, and at Tesco you were... Are you ill? Is Salome ill? What _happened_ , Alex?"

Alex had been going to say it was nothing, just a bad week, but when he asked about Salome her decision not to cry dissolved and she burst into tears. “Oh now, don’t do that,” he said, flustered, and she tried to control it but she couldn’t manage, and she just _sobbed_. “Okay then,” Matt murmured, and put both his arms around her, stroking her back. “Okay, shh... you’re alright, Alex.” It was a litany, repeated over and over, mumbled into her hair as he rubbed her back, and eventually the sobs subsided into the occasional hiccough. “Better then?” he asked, the words rumbling through his chest into her ear, and she nodded and pushed herself away.

“I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled, not looking at Matt. “Just silly, nothing really wrong, just a terrible week and...” She looked as though she might cry again, and Matt put one long finger under her chin and tilted her face up. He kissed her - chastely - on the lips.

“Okay, tell me. You were already having a bad week, and then something happened at lunchtime today that was nearly the final straw, yeah? Tell me, Alex, because I’m your friend. You believe that, right?” She nodded. “Right then. No hiding damage needed here, eh?”

“Alright,” Alex said softly. “As I said, there’s nothing big. Just a lot of little things. I hadn’t been sleeping well, I never do when I cross all those time zones, and then the scenes between River and the Doctor, I saw them full on for the first time when they aired, and I looked so _old_ \- no, don’t say anything. I looked old, I _did_ , we planned it that way, remember? For River to show some of her age for contrast with the Doctor. But then...” He made as if to stop her but she was on a roll now, and clearly she needed to get this out. “But then today at lunchtime I saw the review in that rag - oh, I can’t remember the name now - and it said something about Kingston being mutton dressed as lamb and how the corset must be to hide all the fat because you know these aging actresses all go to fat...” She was babbling now, tears in her eyes again, and she didn’t see the look of horrified denial on Matt’s face. “And I _know_ it’s not really true and any other week I would've laughed it off but I’d already had _such_ a week and then I got back here and went to skype Salome and she wasn’t _home_. Florian was very nice about it, but it was the first time I’ve called my baby when she wasn’t there and I’m the world’s worst mother and I...”

Alex might have kept on babbling, but Matt kissed her.

This kiss was not nearly so chaste, but it was sweet, meant to reassure and calm rather than inflame.

“Now then,” said Matt breathlessly after they broke the kiss. “ _You_ , my lovely co-star, need someone to look after you, a weekend of cosseting and caring for you. And _I’m_ going to give it to you.” She stared at him, bemused, and he smiled at her. “We can eat all that lovely food we bought, and watch crap telly, and just... _be_. No press, no lines to remember, no worries. Okay?” He looked at her so hopefully that she didn’t even think about the potential consequences.

“Okay.”


	2. Bandages

Matt shook his head, hair flopping into his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Right then. You go... take a shower or a lie-down, do whatever it is you do to unwind after a long day. I’ll make the savoury custard and... what is it? Are you alright?” He stared. Alex knew she was blushing - and when was the last time _that_ had happened? - but what he’d _said_ , he couldn’t _know_ of course, but...

She swallowed hard.

“I’ll go shower then,” she said simply, and turned away. She thought she heard Matt make some sort of inarticulate noise, but then he turned and went into her tiny kitchen.

Alex turned on the shower to let it warm up, and took off her jeans and top, then her knickers and bra. She stepped into the shower and let out a long, quiet sigh. Why hadn’t she thought of this? It would have helped... but then Matt mightn’t have come over and... and oh god she was glad he was here. She washed her hair and rubbed conditioner through the ends, then just let the hot water pound against her tired body while she waited the five minutes to rinse. Was that a shout she heard over the water? “What?”

The sound of a door opening, and Alex peeked out around the shower curtain. The door was open and Matt was standing in the doorway, but the dear man was keeping his eyes averted, facing out of the bath rather than risk upsetting her. “I said, ‘would it be okay if I watch your telly while the custard is setting up?’.”

“Of course,” Alex said, wondering if he’d be able to see through the dust; it’d been ages since she watched television here. He disappeared and she began to rinse her hair, musing. Why, it must’ve been a month or more since she used her own television here in Cardiff, and...

...oh _shit_.

“ _Matt_ ,” Alex shrieked, and scrambled to get out of the slippery shower and pull on a dressing gown at the same time - without falling on her arse. But by the time she got through the door, she knew it was too late; Matt was staring at her, wide-eyed, even as the squeaking bed and panting moans on the screen provided a soundtrack. “Oh god, Matt, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t, Matt, I am so _so_ sorry...” she was babbling the apologies over and over, and Matt hit the pause button on the remote.

“I’m not,” he said quietly. “I think it’s incredibly hot.” Alex’s mouth snapped shut as though the remote worked on _her_ , and her eyes went wide.

“Y-you do?”

“Yes. _Yes_ , Alex.” Matt’s eyes had gone almost black and his voice was hoarse. “To know - after all this time, that you think of _me_ when you...” he made a vague gesture and continued, “You think of _me_ to the point where you use sex scenes from _my_ films to ah... help you along. So. Bloody. Hot.” He started... _stalking_ was the word that came to Alex’s mind... stalking toward her, and she stood against the wall in bare feet and damp dressing gown and dripping hair, trembling. “ _Alex_...” His voice caressed her name and she shivered as he put one hand against the wall on either side of her. He leaned in, just barely brushing his mouth against hers, and she let out a surprised little squeak.

Matt pulled away and closed his eyes for a moment, clearly gathering the shreds of his self-control, and then he opened them and spoke again. His voice was still hoarse with _wanting_ , and his eyes were still dark. “Alex,” he said, almost hesitantly, “Alex, I... I want...”

But Matt didn’t get any further, because Alex untied the sash holding her dressing gown closed, letting the gown slide off her shoulders and pool at her feet. “Matt,” she said, very softly and very seriously, “Do you... really... want me?” He nodded, speechless, and she leaned forward and fastened her mouth to his.

Matt groaned into her mouth as his arms automatically dropped from the wall on either side of Alex, fluttering aimlessly until they settled into her wet hair. Her hands drifted down his sides and he groaned again as she tilted her hips into his. “Alex,” he panted, tearing his lips away and taking a step back to look at her. “God, Alex, so _beautiful_ , you...”

She stepped into him and he backed up, turning so that it was him with his back to the wall, and he leaned against it, hauling her toward him by her narrow waist. “Mmm...” It was something between a hum and a moan as Alex trailed little kisses along the length of Matt’s jaw, pausing to nibble and suck at his neck before she licked his earlobe and he moaned out loud.

“ _Alex_... please, Alex I need, I...” Matt wrenched himself away and grabbed Alex’s hand, tugging gently until she followed him to her own bedroom. He stood watching her, lips parted and breathing quick, as she towelled her hair to stop the dripping... and then she dropped the towel on the floor and sat on the edge of her bed, almost primly, and looked up at him. “Alex...”

“Do you still...?” He seemed doubtful, and she thought _Oh god, after all this, if he doesn’t still want me, I._.. but he was looking at her, eyes hot and dark, and relief washed through her.

“Alex... may I touch you?” She nodded and he sat next to her on the bed, drawing her down until they lay facing each other. “So beautiful,” Matt whispered, and brushed his fingers lightly against her cheek, whinging a bit as she turned her head to suck one into her mouth. “Alex...” And then he was kissing her again, and oh god his _tongue_ and his lips and even his teeth, they were _everywhere_. Alex whimpered when Matt’s teeth grazed one rosy nipple, and arched into him, gasping his name as his fingers trailed past her navel and touched her centre.

“ _Matt_!” Alex clutched at the bed sheets, his hair, the soft fabric of his T-shirt, as his mouth followed his fingers to her core and he tasted her. It took her almost no time to fall apart under his hands and mouth together, and she came hard, shaking and crying out, and he kept stroking her until she shoved him away none too gently.

“Too much?” His eyes were shining.

“Mmhmm.” Alex stretched, a long luxurious stretch, and realised that she felt better than she had in _months_... and all because of him. “Matt... thank you.” He made a low noise of negation, and she smiled at him. “I mean it. And now, my darling Matt, may I return the favour?”

He pretended to consider, and then took off his T-shirt over his head and unsnapped his denim jeans. “If you’ll let me make it mutual.”

“Mm... something else I meant... ‘I could kiss you all night.’ I really could.”

“And I you, Miss Kingston,” Matt said, voice gravelly, and demonstrated.

Oh, he felt so _good_ under her hands, her mouth, he was all smooth skin and floppy hair and he had muscles that didn’t show under all the tweed of his costumes. It _was_ mutual loving... but not at first. At first _she_ loved _him_ , brought him to fever pitch, and when he began to gasp her name and moan and writhe and fumble for a foil packet from his jeans, she put one hand on his and brought it to her core. “ _Matt_...” she groaned his name. “I want you to touch me again, _inside_.” And she found the condom and rolled it on him, concentrating on the task and on his fingers inside her. Then she straddled his hips and sank down on and around him, and she thought she might come again on the first stroke, between the moaning and gasping and his pubic bone scraping her sex, so she stilled.

And then she began to move, twisting and swivelling her hips, and - _thank god_ \- his fingers were rubbing her just above where their bodies met. _Faster harder faster harder_ \- Alex didn’t know whether she was saying the words aloud or he was or if she was just thinking them but oh _god_ , now, yes, right there rightthererighthere, _please!_ Matt all but shouted her name just as she reached her peak, and they came together, shuddering and nearly sobbing with pleasure. As the shaking diminished, the rubbing turned to slow and gentle caresses, the sobs to sighs, and they relaxed in the afterglow of loving.

And at last, no longer joined but limbs entangled, they fell asleep.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the recipe! http://altonbrown.com/2012/08/a-meal-fit-for-a-doctor/


End file.
